in the end her little fingers acquired such skill that neither Stas nor Mea could keep up with her work. She did not lack strength now. The salubrious climate of Mount Linde simply regenerated her. The period during which the fatal third attack could come, had definitely passed. That day Stas hid himself in a banana thicket and wept from joy. After a fortnight's stay on the mountain he observed that the "Good Mzimu" looked entirely different from what she did below in the jungle. Her cheeks were plumper, her complexion from yellow and transparent became rosy again, and from under the abundant tufts of hair, merry eyes full of luster gazed upon the world. The boy blessed the cool nights, the translucent spring-water, the flour of dried bananas, and, above all, Linde.
He himself became lean and swarthy, which was evidence that the fever would not take hold of him, as sufferers from that disease do not tan from the sun—and he was growing up and becoming manly. Activity and physical labor intensified his bravery and strength. The muscles of his hands and limbs became like steel. Indeed, he was already a hardened African traveler. Hunting daily and shooting only with bullets, he became also a matchless shot.
He did not at all fear the wild animals, for he understood that it was more dangerous for the shaggy-haired and the spotted hunters of the jungle to meet him than for him to meet them. Once he killed with a single shot a big rhinoceros, which, aroused from a light nap under an acacia, charged at him unexpectedly. He treated with indifference the aggressive African buffaloes, which at times disperse whole caravans.
Aside from the gluing of kites and other daily engagements, he and Nell also began the work of converting Kali, Mea, and Nasibu. But it was harder than they
